


Aftermath

by multifandom1fangirl



Category: Mighty Ducks (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene, after the "fight" scene, oblivious boys in love, oh wow look at me actually posting, set during mighty ducks 3, somewhat of a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:33:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandom1fangirl/pseuds/multifandom1fangirl
Summary: Another missing scene piece, this time set during Mighty Ducks 3 sometime after when the fight breaks out between the Varsity and the Ducks and when Charlie and Adam appear to have made up. My take on Adam and Charlie getting to the point of being on the same side/page again, once again with a slight Chadam twist, and some added angst, hurt, and comfort.
Relationships: Adam Banks/Charlie Conway
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Aftermath

Charlie Conway sat at his desk, math textbook open in front of him but his mind a million miles away.

He could still feel Banksy looking at him with such hatred in his eyes, could still feel him trying to pull Charlie into a headlock. Even now he could still feel a twinge of soreness in his neck, and his wrist—currently wrapped in an ACE bandage just in case—hurt from where it had gotten twisted at some point during the fight.

What is happening to us? How did it get so bad? Charlie asked himself. 

Taking one last glance at his attempted math homework, he grabbed his skates from their spot by the door and headed to the one place he knew would help him focus. 

Surprised to find the door to Eden Hall’s rink open, he slipped inside and laced up his skates.

It wasn’t until he got closer to the ice that he realized he wasn’t alone. He could recognize Banksy’s athletic build and blonde hair from a mile away. 

He began to back away, but his skate caught on the matting and he fell backwards, making a loud banging noise.

“Who’s there?” Adam Banks called out, panicked that he’d been caught. Skating over towards the open door onto the rink, he laid eyes upon the last and simultaneously the only person he wanted to see right now. 

Charlie scrambled to his feet and resumed stumbling towards the door, skates and all, throwing a rushed “I’msosorryIdidn’trealizeI’llleaveyoualonenow” over his shoulder.

Not realizing what’d he done until the words left his mouth, Adam called out “Charlie wait.”

Charlie tensed up, but turned around, noticing now that Banksy’s voice sounded raw, like he’d been crying, and that his friend appeared to be favoring his right ankle/leg, presumably a result of earlier’s “game.” 

“I was just leaving” Banksy said weakly, moving off the ice and starting to walk by Charlie.

Fuck, Charlie thought, and grabbed Adam by the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His friend turned to face him, new tears clearly threatening to spill over.

“Banksy, I—“ Charlie started, a few tears of his own forming, “I’m so so sorry. I’ve been acting like a complete douchebag. You’re my best friend, and you don’t deserve any of that shit. I just—I miss playing with you, I miss the Ducks, I miss how things used to be…” 

His knees buckled, and the taller boy caught him and brought him down to a sitting position.

“Me too, Charlie, me too,” Adam whispered, melting into his friend’s arms. 

They sat like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s arms and not feeling the need to say anything. 

After a while, Charlie whispered “It’s getting late, Banksy. We should probably get out of here before we get caught.”

They got up and unlaced their skates, Adam knowing that Charlie would be spending the night with him and not saying a word about it. 

Back at Adam’s room they ditched their skates, shoes, and socks and moved to get ready for bed.

“Your ankle, Banksy. Let me wrap it.” Charlie said softly, noticing again how his friend was favoring his right foot despite being a dominant lefty.

“It’s fine Charlie. It doesn’t bother me.” the blonde boy responded, not making eye contact with Charlie.

“Now Banksy, you and I both know that’s crap. We can do this the easy way, or I drag you down to the infirmary.” Charlie responded, fixing his friend with a stern but concerned look. 

Looking at the clock and noticing it was almost midnight, Adam reluctantly trudged over to his desk and grabbed a rolled ACE bandage from one of the drawers. He tossed it at Charlie before returning to sit down on his bed and rolling up the leg of his sweatpants.

“Doesn’t hurt? Really?” Charlie chastized his friend, noticing and feeling guilty about how obviously swollen Adam’s ankle was.

He set about trying to wrap it as delicately as possible, but couldn’t help notice his friend wincing.

After that, they both crawled into Adam’s bed.

“Aren’t you hot in that sweatshirt, Charlie?” Adam asked.

“Um…I’m…”

“You’re what?

“Umm….”

“We’ve seen each other in various states of undress countless times over the years and shared the same bed about as much—why the hesitation now?” 

Charlie hesitated for another second before pulling off his sweatshirt and tossing it aside, revealing his wrapped right wrist.

“Your wrist…” Adam whispered, delicately taking it into his hands.

“It’s nothing, Banksy. Just twisted it the wrong way.”

“It’s clearly not ‘nothing,’” he replied, fixing his friend with equally as stern a glance as he had received earlier. 

“Don’t worry about it, Banksy. Let’s get some sleep. We have a long day and a lot to think about ahead of us.” Charlie said through a yawn. 

Choosing not to push the matter for now, Adam turned out the light and rejoined Charlie in bed, smiling to himself when his shorter friend curled into his side, as had become natural over the years.

For now, he knew everything would be okay.


End file.
